The former knight of the Grayman family, Fergus, rode his horse leisurely on the road. The fresh air exhilarated him, and the thought of indulging in a hearty drink at the upcoming banquet lifted his spirits even more.
Since the Alda family established a standing army, the many new rules formulated by Paul for the military made many of the old subordinates loyal to the Grayman family uncomfortable.
Especially those knights accustomed to a relaxed and free lifestyle, who previously spent their days leisurely in activities like sparring and hunting.
Being made officers in the new army, required to sign in at the barracks at specified times and oversee the soldiers’ training all day, and forbidden from getting drunk on regular days… Oh, how tedious and bland! Was this even a life worth living? Latest content published on NoveI-Fire.ɴet
Therefore, within half a year of the formation of the new army, nearly a third of the family knights resigned from their military positions. However, they swore to Paul that they would return to serve the Grayman family in times of crisis.
Most of these knights had estates either inherited through generations or bestowed by the old count. Thus, many moved away from Lakeheart Town and returned to their rural estates to live a pastoral life.
Fergus was one of them. A close friend of Bryce, the former military chief of the Grayman family and now the second-in-command of the Alda army, they often competed in drinking. On the day he left Lakeheart Town, it was Bryce who personally saw him off.
Now, Fergus spent his days overseeing work on his estate, hunting with neighboring gentry and landowners every now and then, and occasionally visiting his friends in the military at Lakeheart Town. Life was quite comfortable for him.
Under the governance of the young count, Lakeheart Town finally looked like a city, which would surely please the ancestors of the Grayman family.
However, the booming marketplace also led to rising prices, causing Fergus to wince each time he treated guests, but as a wealthy estate owner, these expenses didn’t pose a financial burden.
Another discomfort for Fergus was the influx of outsiders in Lakeheart Town, with their varied accents, making every visit feel unfamiliar.
“Fergus, sir, we are approaching the Valen estate,” reminded one of Fergus’s attendants, noticing their master lost in thought.
“Oh! We’re almost there, then,” Fergus replied, straightening his attire. He was on his way to attend a birthday banquet of a local gentleman, whose family name was Valen, well-respected in the southwest of Alda, and addressed as ‘Lord Valen’ by everyone.
As they rounded a bend, the grand Valen estate came into view. Fergus spurred his horse, leading his attendants to the estate’s main gate.
Two servants at the gate immediately came to greet him. Dismounting, Fergus handed the reins to a servant.
“How many guests from your family have arrived?” he inquired.
“Noble Fergus, 13 guests have already arrived and are gathered in the living room,” replied one of the servants.
“Good, lead the way,” said Fergus, as his attendant carried the gift and followed closely into the estate.
Upon reaching the living room, the servant at the door announced loudly, and a burst of noise came from inside.
“Lord Fergus, you’ve arrived too.”
“I am honored to see you here today.”
As Fergus entered the living room at a leisurely pace, many guests stood up to greet him, to which he responded with a smile. The warm reception he received was due to his previous status as a knight of the Grayman family and a hero of the pirate suppression campaign. Even now, he maintained connections with many high-ranking members of the lord’s army.
“Our hero, Lord Fergus, your presence is a great honor,” greeted the estate’s owner, Lord Valen, an elderly man who warmly took Fergus’s arm and led him to a seat next to the main place.
No sooner had he seated himself than a man approached to clink glasses with him. With a round figure and small, mung bean-like eyes, Fergus’s facial muscles twitched slightly in recognition.
This was Baden, the landlord responsible for the salt worker uprising. Lord Valen had invited such a person? After the unrest, Baden had been severely punished, with most of his property confiscated by Count Grayman and his status as a taxpayer revoked, significantly lowering his standing among the gentry.
Fergus really didn’t want to associate with someone with such a tainted history, who had even dared to forge orders from the lord’s mansion, causing turmoil. However, out of respect for the host of the banquet, Fergus still raised his glass and clinked it dryly with Baden.
Sensing his unpopularity with Fergus, Baden exchanged a few pleasantries before returning to his seat.
As the guests continued to arrive, announced one by one, all were notable figures from the region. The banquet in the Northwest Bay was robust and straightforward, with loud conversations, large drinks, and hearty eating, lacking the intricate formalities of southern wealth. The living room buzzed with noise as the atmosphere reached its climax.
“Gentlemen, thank you for attending my birthday banquet!” Lord Valen raised his glass once all the guests had arrived. “First, I propose a toast to our respected lord, Paul Grayman!”
The guests raised their glasses in unison and drank in one gulp.
“Under Lord Grayman’s leadership, we people of Alda have finally held our heads high in the Northwest Bay! Last year’s Usurper War was our decisive blow, thwarting the usurper’s schemes!”
“Haha! The people of Emden always looked down on us, but now they are under our lord’s rule, and it’s our turn to look down on them.”
“Even the current Duke of the Northwest relies on our support from Alda!”
The hall echoed with various praises for Lord Paul Grayman.
Fergus listened with a smile, feeling immensely proud, as Paul was the lord he served. Despite not being called upon during the Usurper War, he still felt a hint of regret at being left out as an “old servant.”